


shufflin’

by hannieks



Series: training wheels [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, he tries, jd and martha’s friendship, jd doesn’t know how to social, martha being precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannieks/pseuds/hannieks
Summary: He didn’t sign up for this shit, okay? All he wanted to do was blow up a couple thousand teenagers while making out with the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met, how is that in any way wrong?“You’re talking out loud again.”





	shufflin’

**Author's Note:**

> ashamed to say the title is from “Party Rock Anthem”. kill me 
> 
> i don’t even think the plot really works but if it doesn’t, just imagine this is another AU?  
> i’ve revised this to try and fix the characterisation, but my dialogue may be a lil’ iffy still -_-

Hospital is boring. They don’t tell you that in the books, that instead of flowers and _get well soon!_ cards, you get loneliness and stiff muscles. And the worst thing is that they treat him like a fucking five-year-old, like he isn’t acing all of his fucking classes?

Y’know, Jason Dean is many things, but he is not stupid. He’s sick, he’s manipulative, he’s narcissistic, delusional, violent - but they’re all mere labels.

Outside the window, his appreciation of the blue skies is interrupted by a small bird, flying headlong into an electric fence and perishing. It makes him chuckle lowly, then berates himself for giving into the voice again.

The doctor tells him to fight, to think of what he loves and push through it, know that it will fade with time and medication.

_(“So, JD. Who, or what is your biggest motivation?”_

_“Veronica.”_

_“Is that the girl who brought you to the hospital?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Knows what she wants, that one - you got lucky.”)_

One of the millions of reasons he loves her is her detest for labels, but now he’s covered in them. Filthy, grimy, riddled with expectations and social skills and mental health.

He didn’t sign up for this shit, okay? All he wanted to do was blow up a couple thousand teenagers while making out with the most unbelievably gorgeous woman he’s ever met, how is that in any way wrong?

“You’re talking out loud again.”

His soul briefly vacates his body before he realises it's Martha and not, y’know, a murderer.

She passes the doorway, on crutches now, her kitten print backpack a staple of her style. The girl looks exhausted, but he knows she’s dealt with Veronica these past few weeks. (Somewhere deep down, he’s thankful she has someone.)

Said backpack is opened when she’s sat in the visitor’s chair, and out of that backpack comes another bag - this one filled with fast food.

He takes the food, eying the fries with suspicion, and sighs. “What do you want this time?”

She pokes him in the chest, seemingly unaware of how dangerous he is. Such an idiot. (No, no she isn’t, she’s intelligent and kind. I’m not listening to you...)

“...and you, JD, has left my best friend heartbroken. Heartbroken! And even now, you-“

He’s quick to apply the mask before she notices anything wrong, puts aside his internal battle, biting back with venom saturated words.

“Oh, who cares? She was never your friend, remember how quickly she dropped you?”

Martha visibly tenses. “She may not be my friend, but I am hers. I have been for seventeen years.”

There’s fire in her voice, a confidence in her eyes that makes JD reevaluate his opinion of her. Where’s the placid, harmless girl he knew from before, and why is he vaguely threatened by her new personality?

She leans closer, close enough for him to see the specks of amber in her eyes, mouth set into a firm line. He grins.

“You’re threatening a murderer?”

Martha laughs in his face, and an emotion his doctor is yet to explain to him swirls in his gut.

“JD, I don’t care if I die. I tried to kill myself.”

She drops the remainder of her share of the food in his lap and sinks into the chair. “Veronica’s too shaken to see you right now. That’s why I’m here.” 

“Why are you doing this?”

There’s a brief pause, long enough for JD to question whether what he said is valid in a non-Veronica social situation. 

Martha looks up from twisting her hands and smiles wryly, like she’s making a joke only the insane will laugh at.

“Because I know what it’s like to spend three weeks in a hospital without a single person aside from my mother visit me.”

He doesn’t know how to respond other than with bitter cruelty, remembers the constant reminders to stop insulting people who are _just having a difficult day, he doesn’t need to murder them._

She isn’t affected by his freeze, however, and pulls out a board game with the casualness of an average teenager.

A game. She really knows him, huh.

He whistles. “You’ve changed, Martha Dunnstock.”

She laughs again, humorlessly, and the sound resonates deep in his blackened heart. “I’m fat, unloved, and I failed suicide. The love of my life is dead, and I’ve been living a fantasy. What do I have to live for?”

And then the next thing comes out of the bag - a bottle of vodka. She mixes it into her fast-food bottle of cola and takes a swig, before offering it to him.

He declines, doesn’t want to risk extending an already torturous hospital stay. She shrugs, pours herself a little more. 

“You’ve really changed.”

”Hasn’t everyone?” 

—

That’s how the friendship begins, really. Whenever her parents decide to kick her out so they can scream at each other without her in earshot, he offers his house as a hideout spot. Whenever he’s overwhelmed by life and in need of a rant, Martha’s landline is open for him.

She’s witty, quirky, and best of all Veronica seems less on edge around him when she’s next to them.

He learned that what he did was wrong. He knows she’s suffered endlessly for him, and he needs to rebuild their relationship before some lawyer swoops in and marries her before he gets the chance.

And trust him, he wants to marry Veronica more than anything in the world.

But now? In this moment, eating Hawaiian pizza with the pineapple picked off by him and eaten whole by Veronica, Martha smiling at them from the corner of the sofa, he wishes she didn’t jump every time he moved. He wishes to every deity there is that she wouldn’t shift away from him, could keep eye contact for longer than two seconds.

“As you wish,” recites the television. All JD can do is hope.

—

But as previously stated, he’s not stupid. He observes as his darling starts awake, drenched in sweat and panting hard, nearly giving herself a heart attack when she notices him next to her.

“Are...” He tries one night. “Are you okay, Ronnie?”

“I’m fine, JD.” Her voice is distant, and it breaks his newly found heart.

She turns to him and kisses him on the cheek, but the sorrow in her eyes is painfully obvious. “Just a little spooked by the dream, that’s all.”

Neither of them mentions that she woke screaming his name in terror. Of what, he can’t be sure.

He’s wronged her too many times.

—

They’re having lunch one Wednesday afternoon. Mid sandwich bite, Veronica casually checks her watch - and flees to some hiding place like the flames of hell are at her heels.

He follows because of course, he follows. She could be running from someone (not him, no please not him) or murdered or cheating or- Veronica would never cheat. _But_ , says his subconscious, _she also thought you weren’t a sociopath._

Which is fair. 

He spots her a few minutes of searching later, safely with friends, but he’s too busy dealing with the unknown pain of his heart falling to his feet.

Veronica - sweet, gorgeous, innocent Veronica - is taking what looks like pills, Martha and Heather Mac consoling her as she sobs. 

She isn't crying on his shoulder, and that means it’s about him. 

JD feels like a shitty boyfriend, not just because he killed three people and almost a whole school. 

He’s the one who drove her almost insane, and he’ll never be able to fix it.

—

Saturday, March 12th, 1990. Oh, how his father would laugh if he saw him now, trying to woo a girl he tried to murder a school for. He’d love him even less if that was possible.

And here he is, dressed in one of his father’s god awful fifties suits, standing on her porch with a fucking huge bouquet and tickets to the movies. She’s standing on the other side of the front door with tears streaming down her face and her hands flailing around like an octopus.

 _Shit_ , his constant inner monologue screeches, _we didn’t prepare for this! How do you comfort someone?_

Veronica Sawyer, forever an enigma, smiles like she’s just won the lottery and pulls him in for a rib-crushing hug.

“I- Are you upset? Did I-“

“Thank you,” she sobs into his hair, and he’s at a total loss at what to do, so he just hugs her back like the lovesick loser he is.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Martha give him a thumbs up from a nearby bush and sighs with relief.

“I want to do you good, my Queen,” he grins, and as she takes the flowers he drops into a bow.

The sound of her laugh dropkicks his heart through the stratosphere, and as he’s pulled up for a kiss he knows they’re finally taking a step in the right direction.

Maybe not. Maybe it’s just a shuffle.

Yeah.

A small shuffle towards recovery.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if u liked it pls leave feedback i live off it lmao 
> 
> my twitter is @samuraiklance


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